


Marry Me

by corinnemaree



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: Owen had always thought she looked beautiful in white - but he had never seen Claire look like she was an angel before. She was breathtaking in her wedding gown.And she wasn’t his.





	Marry Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song 'Marry Me' by Thomas Rhett
> 
> i'm back at it again with the shitty clawen fics. I'm diving back in guys. Also, unbeta read. I was gonna get my beta on it but I'm too excited. spelling mistakes are all me and i'm so sorry

_ Owen had always thought she looked beautiful in white - but he had never seen Claire look like she was an angel before. She was breathtaking in her wedding gown.  _

_ And she wasn’t his.  _

*~*~*

Owen used to watch her sometimes when they were kids - she’d practice the entrance in, holding onto the arm of a teddy bear to act as her father. She wore white high heels and tripped a few times as she walked. Claire laughed, before continuing on, and Owen would always laugh when she kissed the face of another of her stuffed animals. 

Once, when he caught her reenacting the same ceremony over and over, she came outside to tell him all about it. Owen was never interested in it, barely listening to when she spoke about what her dress would look like or where it was set. When she had smacked him upside the head, he frowned at her deeply. 

“Listen! I want Magnolias! I want them all around and filling up the rows!” she beamed, the gap in her teeth where one had come loose, showing clear in her smile. 

“Huh? What are magnolias?” he had asked with a scrunched up nose.

“In your garden. Those!” Claire said, pointing dramatically to his tree in the front yard. 

“They’re pretty, I guess,” he shrugged. Claire raced over to tree, picked a flower and tucked it behind her ear. She came bounding back over, showing off the white flower perfectly positioned on her ear and defining her elegant red hair.

“See! They’re perfect,” she beamed again, and there was something in the way she smiled that made him laugh. 

Claire had been his best friend since childhood - being neighbours had its benefits at the time. She made him play dress up, but in return, she helped him play football - even getting a good throwing arm in the process. 

In the end, Owen knew one thing about Claire above everything. 

She wanted to get married. 

But she didn’t want to marry him. 

*~*~*

_ It was clear, even then, that Claire had the whole thing planned out. Everything about her day would be perfect. From her dress, to her hair, to the flowers she held at her side. Magnolias with a mix of complementary flowers.  _

_ She beamed without the gap in her teeth now.  _

_ Still, he was dazzled by her presence, and smiled back.  _

_ And his heart broke.  _

*~*~*

High school was when Owen knew he had to act. During one of his football games, he was taken off - exhaustion gripping him, and sweat pooled on his skin. He took off his helmet, shaking off his damp hair and combing it back as he looked out onto the game. He didn’t feel like the game was in his favour, something entirely wrong with his play and how he was running - it wasn’t his night. 

“Owen!” a voice yelled from the stands. When he turned, he saw Claire with a few of their mutual friends, with a navy shirt like his uniform. It had the number ten plastered on front in white, and when she turned ‘OWEN’ was written across her shoulders. 

She had spun back around with a giant smile, clapping and cheering him on as much as she could. Even though she hated the game, and took no real interest in it - Claire still went to every game and made Owen feel like he was doing it for something. 

Claire always made him feel like he would win, even when he would lose. 

After the game, only winning by a few points, Owen had showered and dressed, meeting Claire straight after. She charged at him in a bounding hug before jumping onto his back and stealing his helmet. He was too late to warn her how badly it smelled or how damp it was in there from all his sweat before she pushed it onto her head. 

She groaned and struggled to get it off before they got to his car. He laughed as he helped it off, fixing up her hair, tucking a stray part behind her ear and knowing he would need to make a move soon - his heart couldn’t take the waiting. 

The team and their friends has all organised to meet at a diner that was a regular spot for them all - it was one of the only places in town that they could all afford their shitty late night meals. Owen had picked up the mac and cheese order for Claire and the fries that they would share. Claire sat in the booth against the window - their booth - and pat the seat beside her. Owen slid in, handing her the food and starting to talk with the players and friends around. 

The night rounded out, a few friends remaining, but dispursed throughout the diner and parking lot. Claire and Owen talked about college and what they wanted from their futures. They dreamed wild and big, like children without a thought of the wider world. It was perfect. What Owen hadn’t noticed at first was that Claire had placed her hand down on the chair, finger catching his from time to time. 

Her hand edged towards his - his heart was racing harder than it had on the field. She made him so nervous. He looked over to her, the slight duck of her head as she giggled, hiding the blush running over her cheeks. For a moment, he forgot the nerves that begged him to stop, and followed what could only be instinct. He leaned into her, feeling her shoulder press up to his own - she was moving in too. 

It was so slow, almost perfect. 

Then, one of the linebackers pummeled his fists against the glass window next to them. Claire turned around shocked - watching as the asshole made a kissy face and laughed at the pair. Claire vaulted over the booth chair and went outside, kicking him the ass, but they laughed as they play-fought. 

As Claire turned to Owen once more, she shrugged, laughing a little but he could see the blush in her cheeks fading. 

*~*~*

_ Owen could feel the cold flask pressing tight to his chest as he buttoned up his suit jacket.  _

_ All he wanted was to drink.  _

_ And stop the way his heart wanted to stop beating.  _

*~*~*

Owen and Claire had gone to different colleges, they got different jobs, they led different lives from what they saw from their younger years. 

Even though they still stayed in touch, things had been lost - information that was never passed on, only to be discovered from parents that got in touch. 

What shocked Owen most was the engagement he never saw coming. 

It was at her parents' house, right next door to his parents - still living in the homes their children grew up in. Even seeing it that morning, driving from the airport, he remembered the girl in a dress covered in sparkles and shoes that didn’t fit. 

Once, he thought he was going to be the one to make her happy. 

It was too late. He should have expected this. 

Owen waited. 

This Eli guy didn’t. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the Dearing house, greeting her mother and father, kissing her sister’s cheek and talking with Karen’s sons that Owen saw as family. 

But they weren’t. 

His heart stood smiling over at him, waving at him for come closer only for it to be squeezed tight by a man that kissed it like Owen wished he could. 

Owen found whatever alcohol was being served and drank as many glasses as he could. He refused to meet Eli, and he didn’t talk to Claire - only raising his glass to her when she looked his way. Instead, Owen talked with Karen, talking about her life and her boys. Karen sensed Owen’s mood, avoiding the topic of the event that surrounded them.

The night rounded down, afternoon closing in a beautiful cascade of colours, yet when Owen saw the flash of red pass at his side, he knew there was nothing like her. And she was like a ghost to him; close, but he could never touch her. Instead of the champagne that had been served, Claire held two beer bottles in between her fingers, handing one over to Owen. Popping to cap with the edge of the porch railing, Owen watched Claire’s classic ‘try-and-fail’ attempt before she got Owen to do the same with hers. 

“I barely saw you tonight,” she said after the silence was too much. Owen merely shrugged. 

“You’ve got people to gush over you, didn’t want to interrupt the fun,” he smirked as he sipped at his drink. Claire scoffed, knocking her hip against his. 

“Oh, screw you, making me out to be an attention seeker.” 

“I saw you in high school, I know what you’re like,” he reminded, only for Claire to throw herself at him, knocking a fist hard against his shoulder over and over again.

“Fuck you, I wasn’t like that in high school,” she snapped. They both laughed, as though everything fell right back into place even with years apart. 

“Congratulations,” he said a little more quietly, looking at his shoes. He was trying to focus on the brown dress shoes he was wearing and not the white heels to his side. Everything about her was distracting to him, evidently. 

“Thanks,” Claire gave back in the same quiet voice. It was as though neither of them wanted to actually say the words. 

“Let’s see the fucker already,” Owen sighed, looking back to Claire who brimmed with a red hue across her cheeks. 

“I think Eli went -” 

“No...not him, idiot. I mean the ring,” he chuckled, and Claire let out her own embarrassed laugh. 

“Oh,” she realised, delicately laying out her hand, “here,” she offered, the ring standing out amongst her slender fingers. Owen gripped the edges of her fingers delicately, as though touching her would break her - or him. 

“Fuck, that’s huge,” he exaggerated, though the ring was quite sizeable. Claire’s hand slipped from his, though his lingered in place, missing the warmth of her. She stared down at her hand. 

“I know. I wasn’t quite expecting it to be so big, and on my hand it looks massive. I tend to take it off,” 

“I’m sure it weighs a tonne,” he said, taking her hand again, pretending to weigh it in his palm, “holy fuck, you carry this around on your finger?! How are you not ripped!” 

“Shut up,” Claire howled out a laugh. Owen chuckled to himself as he drank some more of his beer before Claire broke the silence again. “I’m glad you came,” she said, voice small but wanting. 

“Anything for you. You know that,” Owen said, leaning into her shoulder briefly. Claire’s head fell to his shoulder as she sighed. 

“Yeah.”

*~*~*

Owen stared at the invite, looking at the curl of her name, the letters intertwining with Eli’s. She belonged to someone else, and the invite confirmed it. Looking at his reflection, his hair a complete mess, eyes resembling that of a soulless wanderer, and suit that looked odd on his frame. He wasn’t used to this. He grabbed the flask filled with whiskey off his dresser drawer and went to the car. 

It was a beautiful venue, trees that created archways, birds singing songs in the daylight shine, and flowers blooming to create a wonderful fragrance in the air. Down the aisle, Owen saw the white magnolias that Claire has once described to him. In all, the wedding was exactly how she always planned. It was perfect. 

Owen wandered around, greeting those he recognised before slinking away and trying to find a spot to grab the flask in his pocket. Then, he fixed up his tie quickly as he saw Chris and Lorraine Dearing, dressed in their best. In Owen’s hand, he clenched tight to the gift that was wrapped in an old t-shirt Claire had left at his family’s house many years back. His name was written across the back. She deserved it back, he thought. Nothing else left between them from this day on - just friends, just neighbours, just strangers that once thought they knew the other. 

“Owen! You look amazing,” Lorraine beamed, embracing Owen tightly like when he was a child. She was always family to him. 

“Thank you, Lorraine,” he said, leaving her arms to scrunch up his face in discomfort, “still feels weird to say your name,” he laughed and Lorraine lightly smacked his arm. 

“You’re a grown man, Owen. Get used to it,” she said, almost like a warning. Then, she perked, seeing someone over Owen’s shoulder. “Oh! Beth, so good to see you! Excuse me,” Lorraine said, waving to her friend then smiling to Owen.

“See you,” he said as she passed him. Then, it was just Chris and Owen together. 

“Owen,” he said, extending his hand. Owen took it, and shook it firmly. 

“Chris,” he greeted. 

“It’s going to be hard giving her away,” Chris sighed, looking down the aisle. Owen swallowed, trying not to picture her standing at the end with Eli. 

“I’m sure,” Owen said, jaw clenched as he gripped the gift again. Chris pat Owen’s shoulder, 

“I guess you know what that feels like, son?” he said, and Owen turned to the man. There was an understanding in his eyes. Owen didn’t know what to say, to be seen by the man who knew exactly what Owen was going through. He wondered if more people knew - or if it was just Chris. 

“Owen! Just the man I was looking for,” a voice called. Owen turned, seeing Karen walking over. She wore a beautiful purple silk dress, the maid of honour needed to look just as good as the bride - that was what Claire always said. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Owen faked a laugh, trying not to answer Chris. 

“Very funny,” Karen scoffed, taking his arm. “Claire wants to see you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, hurry up, the ceremony is about to start,” she demanded, dragging him off. Chris gave a soft wave before wandering back over to Lorraine. To the side of the entrance, he saw the pile of gifts. They were to pass it to get to the reception rooms where Claire was getting ready. Owen was quick put the gift down with the rest and followed after Karen to make sure she wouldn’t kill him. 

As they got closer to the door, Karen stopped Owen dead in his tracks. She looked at him, sighing with a sad look in her eyes. “Owen,” she started, “don’t tell her. She has to do this on her own.” Why was it so obvious? But Karen had always known, hadn’t she? Owen rubbed at the back of his head. 

“I won’t,” he said gently, “and she already made her choice,” he said, determined to not break. Not yet anyway. Owen continued forward, knocking on the door and entering the room. 

At the window, Claire stood, her hair looking like a beacon of shining red under her white veil. Her dress was a crisp white, laced with silver leaves and flowers. Her bodice was tight on her with the sleeves off the shoulder, with the skirt flowing out from her waist. In a word: she was mesmerising. 

“You called,” he cleared his throat. Claire turned, a little surprised to hear anyone come in. Owen was still finding it hard to catch his breath. Claire’s smile formed fast, hitching up her skirt as she walked towards him.

“I wanted to see my best friend,” she said, letting her skirt go as she stood in front of him. Yet, even in all her beauty, she looked like she was going to cry - that something was causing her to be so frightened that she’d escape at any moment. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Owen stepped towards her, hands on her biceps to possibly try and steady her if she fell. 

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” she said, voice shaking. 

“I’ve heard that’s a thing. You’ll be fine. You’ve practised this before,” he smiled, and Claire’s brow furrowed. 

“Huh?” 

“Come on, Claire. You’ve wanted this since you were five years old. Had the entire thing planned out from the magnolias in the aisles. Everything is perfect. And so are you,” he said, hand unconsciously guiding itself to her cheek. It would be the only time he would ever hold her like this. 

“You remembered the magnolias?” she asked. 

“I also remember the massive gap in your teeth when you told me what they were,” he said, tucking a hair behind her ear, and finally letting his hands slip from her. He had to let go. “Don’t be nervous. You’ll be fine. Good luck.” 

“Thank you,” she muttered, almost reaching for him before she stopped fixed up her dress to look perfect. 

Owen walked out of the room, finding Karen at the edge of the door. Owen loosened his tie, almost snapping it completely off with the force. He needed to get out of there. Now. 

“Owen?” Karen asked cautiously. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking as he tried to walk away.

“Hey,” Karen stopped him, staring up at him with concern, “what happened?” 

“I did what you told me to. But I can’t watch it happen, Karen. I  _ can’t _ .” His voice was breaking harder than a teenager, tears welling and it was becoming harder to stop the tremble in his lip. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. 

Owen sniffed hard, trying to find strength in his words. “Tell her I’m around. Don’t tell her...don’t -” 

Karen’s hand went to Owen’s cheek, stopping him before he officially broke. She steadied him for a moment. “I won’t.” Owen leaned his forehead against hers before tearing himself away. The flask in his breast pocket slammed against his chest as he went to his car. He’d drink it soon enough. He just needed to get away from all of the happiness. 

He didn’t have a definite destination that he was driving to - but when he stopped, he definitely thought he had a cruel sense of irony. The old diner was still there, a little run down on the outside, but as Owen walked in, he saw they had redone the paint and finishings on most of their table and chairs. By the window sat the same booth from years prior. One that held hopes of teenagers possibly in love. Love lost. 

Owen ordered his coffee and sat in the booth. It came and the flask finally emerged from his pocket. He looked at the clock on the wall - the ceremony had started. And he dashed the whiskey into his coffee, drinking it down just as quickly as he had gotten it. He savoured the taste before he ordered more, thinking about how he couldn’t linger on her after this day - that it was over after all of this.

He needed to move on. 

He needed to let go. 

He needed to stop himself from being a love sick fool. 

She was happy 

That was all that mattered. 

Friends. 

Neighbours. 

Strangers. 

Nothing. 

Afternoon came in, the sky resembling something like that night of her engagement party, Owen looked at the flask, wondering if another drink would soothe the ache or if he just needed to go somewhere to drown her out completely. He drank from the bottle briefly, then he gestured for the waitress to come back around. As he waited, he glanced out the window. 

A flash of white took his attention, but as the waitress came around he looked back to his cup. It was only a second later that he had seen it before. He looked back out the window to see Claire in her wedding dress, panting as she saw Owen inside the diner. Owen shot up from the booth, putting the money under the coffee cup and rushing outside. 

“Claire?” he stared at her, her hair a little out of place and veil completely gone, “what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t there,” she stated, her hands clenched at her sides. 

Owen swallowed hard. “I just needed to get some air, I didn’t think you’d miss me,” he lied. 

“Of course I would! You weren’t there, Owen! The only person I’ve ever wanted there!” she yelled. It still broke him, seeing her like that, in that dress. He needed to be away from her to stop the ache.

He gestured towards his car, “Claire, let’s just get to the reception, and we’ll talk -” 

“There isn’t a reception!” she snapped, and Owen looked confused. 

“What?” 

“Don’t you get what I’m saying! You weren’t there. I couldn’t marry him, because he wasn’t you!” 

“Claire,” Owen said stunned. What was she saying? 

“I thought…” she paused, as though the words were hard to get out. “I thought you were always going to be there for me. And then, when you weren’t, I knew why I thought you would be. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, Owen. I want forever with you,” she said, one breath to finish it all. 

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” he muttered before he could stop himself. What was  _ he _ saying? He wanted this! He was just stunned. 

Claire looked back, fear gripping her - realisation that maybe it was all just one sided. How he had always felt. “You don’t feel this? You never thought -” 

Without fear, without hesitation - for the first time, he let himself feel with everything he had - Owen stepped into her, taking her delicate cheeks into his hands hand kissing her like he had wanted to do for years. Claire let out a surprised noise, but kissed back with a wanting that he craved. She was everything he wanted; and he was the same for her. He wasn’t going to stop kissing her as long as he lived - he had decided it once his lips touched hers. 

Claire was everything. 

And she was his. 

Now. 

And however long she wanted to keep him. 

Just a moment for enough for him. 

When he finally let her go to breathe, Owen rested his forehead against her, her arms wrapping around his waist. She wasn’t letting him go. He felt so loved in just a hold, it was hard to form his words without stumbling. “Of course I did. I thought I missed my chance.” He chuckled as his thumb glided over her cheek over and over again. 

“The wedding dress did put a dampener on things,” she joked, and Owen laughed, breath shaking again. He couldn’t believe it was all real. Everything that was happening was real. She was in his arms, and she was real. Claire kissed him and he hadn’t imagined it. Everything was finally perfect. 

“Now it’s only an improvement,” he replied.

“You think courthouse weddings are still running this late?” she asked, and Owen looked at her in surprise. His heart beat fast, and he licked at his lips. 

“We can only hope,” he smiled, hand going down her arm and holding onto her hand. “There’s always Vegas,” he smirked, only for Claire to thump his chest lightly.

“Very funny,” she said, going up on her toes again to kiss him. 

In one kiss he knew. 

He was hers. 

And she was his. 

**Author's Note:**

> [wedding dress](http://www.zuhairmurad.com/corporate3/images/5451/12.jpg?width=1390)


End file.
